Secret at Pebble Creek

by Lisa Jones Baker

“You mean besides fix your kitchen? And read Old Sam’s love letters?” He glanced at the desk and the clock that made an even ticking sound. “Which reminds me … I have work to do.” He winked.

  “Eli, you’ve got to help me find what this key unlocks. Please.”

  “Okay. But how can I help if I don’t know where their special place is?”

  Jessica snapped her fingers and smiled. “I have an idea.” Before he could say anything, she went on in an excited tone. “Pretend you’re Old Sam.”

  He lifted a doubtful brow.

  “Humor me, Eli. You’ve lived near Pebble Creek your entire life. If you were Old Sam, where would your favorite spot be?”

  He drummed his fingers against the desk and considered her question. “It would have to be somewhere where he could hide the gift.”

  “Right.”

  “Maybe in the barn?”

  Jessica frowned. “Really?”

  “You asked me to guess. But remember, the barn sparked Sam’s creativity. And it was where Maemm, Rebecca , and Rachel used to sit and talk with him.”

  “You’ve got a point. But I just can’t picture Sam asking Esther to marry him in the barn. Wherever it is, it would have to be inside. Maybe it’s hidden on the back patio that faces Pebble Creek?”

  He threw up his hands in defeat. “I’ll let you figure this one out. Guessing their favorite place is like finding a needle in a haystack. You know how large Pebble Creek is.”

  “Yes, but we don’t have many options. Because, like you said, wherever it is, there has to be a spot for the gift.”

  He grinned. “But it’s not up to me to do this. I’m only half.”

  She lifted a curious brow.

  “Because I’m pretending to be Sam, remember?”

  She returned his grin.

  “Let’s go with you pretending to be Esther. Where would a woman’s favorite spot be at Pebble Creek?”

  Chapter Five

  That afternoon, at Old Sam’s flower bed, Jessica was more determined than ever to find what the key opened and what Old Sam had made for Esther for their sixtieth wedding anniversary.

  As she took in the black-eyed Susans and coneflowers, she frowned. You need water. Now. As she removed the garden hose from its hook on the foundation and turned the spigot, she could hear Eli talk with Wayne and Chuck while the threesome finished the countertop.

  A buzzing overhead prompted her to look for the source. She frowned at the family of wasps around a roof corner. She continued away from the buzzing insects and considered how to get rid of them. She wasn’t sure. But she would find out.

  She was sure that Eli would know, and she considered asking him. The last thing she wanted was to bug her handsome carpenter about everything; he was already working so hard on her house. Maybe she could just ask him who to hire to take care of the problem.

  The hose slipped from her grip, and water hit the kitchen window. She saw Chuck jump at the sound of the spray against the glass.

  “Sorry!” She hollered so they could hear her. At the same time, she offered a friendly, apologetic wave. But as she focused back on what she was doing, she realized something very interesting. In fact, the more she contemplated what was happening, the tighter she gripped the hose.

  The truth was, she currently worried about things she’d never even thought of in the city! And to her astonishment, she’d begun focusing more on how to get rid of wasps, eternal life, and the unusual-looking key and what it unlocked, and less about the sale of this home and her stressful drive to work. And surprisingly, in the process, she’d become much more relaxed than she’d ever been. As a pleasant result, the ugliness of her past seemed far, far away.

  A clicking sound prompted her to look at the door where Eli stepped outside, holding a screwdriver.

  He eyed her with amusement. “Miss Beachy, I can see I’ll have to be wary of you as long as you’ve got that in your hand.” He motioned to the hose.

  As she turned to water the base of a coneflower, a fly buzzed in front of her nose, and she started to swat it away. A strong yet gentle hand came down on hers.

  “Easy does it. I didn’t bring a change of clothes. Speaking of which, there’s a rod in the bedroom closet to hang your clothes on.”

  “Thanks. And sorry.” She looked down.

  He chuckled. “You can’t blame me for being wary with that”—he pointed to the hose—“in your hand.”

  He lowered his gaze to her fingers.

  A few steps took him to the spigot, where he turned off the water.

  “There. Now I don’t have to worry. Besides, a rainstorm’s supposed to hit tonight.” He glanced at the flowers. “They’ll have more than enough water.”

  As she looked at him, she wasn’t sure what to say. She found herself lost in the soft gray flecks that danced in his eyes. She wanted to break the deep connection she felt with him at that moment, but to her dismay, she couldn’t look away. What was odd was that he didn’t, either. Instead, they continued to lock gazes until she forgot the hose was in her hand and let it drop.

  For a moment, she lost her voice. She was fully aware that her chest rose and fell more quickly than usual, but she couldn’t slow her breathing.

  He obviously didn’t trust her with the hose, but she didn’t trust herself when he was so close. Finally, he looked away when the buzzing started up again. They looked up at where wasps swirled around a nest.

  She looked at Eli. “The last thing I wanted to do was to burden you with something else, but are they difficult to get rid of? There must be something to spray on that?”

  “Jah. Kerosene will make fast work of them. But in the meantime …”

  Without saying anything, he pointed to the water. “I suggest that you stay away from that. That hose in your hand scares me, and if water hits the nest, you could be in big trouble.”

  She eyed him in amusement. “I guess I’ve given you reason to be concerned.”

  He winked at her.

  They glanced at the flower bed. After a lengthy, thoughtful silence, he resumed their conversation. “It was always important to Sam to keep Esther’s flowers alive. On Esther’s birthdays, after she passed on, he added flowers in her memory.”

  “Really?”

  Eli nodded.

  His gaze drifted to the plant that struggled. He shook his head and said gently, “After her death, Old Sam continued to work on this beautiful flower bed.” Eli let out an emotional breath. “This was Sam’s favorite.”

  She frowned. “The dead one?”

  Eli nodded and offered a gentle lift of his shoulders. “Jah.”

  Jessica considered what Eli had just said and lifted a curious brow.

  Eli nodded. “Such a shame. It looks like it’s a gonner.”

  Jessica bent to touch the stem between two thorns. “So this little guy was my great-uncle’s favorite?”

  Eli nodded. “I guess it just finally gave up.” He turned toward the barn.

  She quickly stepped behind him. “What are you doing?”

  “I’m going to grab a shovel and dig it up. No use keeping a dead plant.”

  She stopped and hugged her hands to her hips. “No!”

  He pivoted to face her. “What?”

  “We can’t give up on it.”

  A stunned expression crossed his face as he looked at her to continue.

  “Eli, don’t you see?” Before he could respond, she went on. “If this was Old Sam’s favorite”—she extended her arms to the garden—“I won’t get rid of it until I’ve done everything I can to save it.”

  He waved a defeated hand and frowned. “But it’s dead.”

  She lifted her chin in determination. “Maybe not.”

  Eli chuckled.

  “What’s so funny?”

  “I didn’t know you had a heart for green things.”

  She smiled. “I always root for the underdog.”

  A few seconds later, he nodded approval. “There’s nothing wrong with that. H
ow ’bout we leave the little guy alone for now? But I’ll still check for kerosene.”

  A light click prompted them to turn to the door where Chuck stepped out. The driver rubbed his back and eyed some of the refinished cabinets to be installed. “Mr. Conrad sure did a fine job on these. If I didn’t know better, I’d think they were brand-spankin’-new. Why, it’s gonna be a different-looking room when we’re all finished.”

  As Eli and Chuck stepped to the pickup, Jessica followed. Eli turned to her and waved. She repeated the gesture.

  As she listened to the tailgate slam shut and the click of the door handles that followed, Jessica’s mind returned to Old Sam’s key and the gift he’d made Esther. I have to find it.

  *

  As soon as they left, Jessica made her way into town for cleaning supplies and food. It was good to get out of the house. Tomorrow, she’d get to see the new cabinets back in place.

  Given the condition of her home and the cleanup she tried to keep up with, she wore jeans, T-shirt, and tennis shoes. She’d weeded the flower bed. Jessica rolled her shoulders and admitted that what she had on was way more comfortable than her usual attire.

  She rolled down her front windows to enjoy the country smells. Since coming to the Midwest, she’d realized that sometimes she enjoyed the natural feel of the outside air more than the cold air conditioning.

  She took in the fields on both sides. The horse-drawn operation still intrigued her. She pulled over and stopped the car long enough to eye the unique picture through the photo lens on her phone and clicked a picture. She took a backup image before checking her mirror for traffic and pulling back onto the blacktop.

  The corn was almost knee-high. Corn and beans. That’s what they grow here. She was fully aware that her friends from St. Louis wouldn’t believe how the Amish farmed.

  As she slowed the car and looked around, she couldn’t rid the key and the note from her thoughts. The more she contemplated Old Sam and Esther and their undying love for each other, the more determined she became to see what he’d made her. Without a doubt, whatever it was, it would be wonderful; Jessica was certain.

  Two things had become crystal clear to her since she’d moved to Arthur: One, Old Sam had done everything to perfection. Secondly, his love for Esther was the type of love that Jessica had read about in romance novels. A solid relationship that could never have been broken.

  In fact, their love had been stronger than any couple’s she’d ever known. Deciding she’d better pay attention to the road, she stopped at the first sign as she came into town, and considered where to park. While she did so, she admitted that the scene around her was much more interesting than what she’d normally see in the city.

  She glimpsed the queue of horses tied at the Welcome Center. Empty buggies. People entering and exiting the one-story building with flyers in their hands. A parking lot full of cars.

  Pedestrians walked the sidewalks. In her rearview mirror, she noticed a horse and buggy coming her way. She looked again in the mirror for a second take. Amusement lifted the corners of her lips.

  She was fully aware that the simple mode of transportation wasn’t rocket science. Still, it definitely piqued her interest. She wasn’t sure why she was so fascinated. What she was certain of, though, was that she couldn’t wait to ride in a horse-drawn buggy.

  Here, there weren’t crowds of people. It was much quieter. She arched a thoughtful brow as she acknowledged that this way of life wasn’t all bad.

  In fact, she liked it. There. She’d admitted it. She’d only been here a short time, but already there was more to spark her interest here than in St. Louis. At the top of the list was the key and Old Sam’s love note to his wife. Eternal life. Buggies. Horses.

  She drew in an appreciative breath. There was one more thing, or person, rather, that attracted her interest. Eli Miller. Her pulse sped up. He was so good-looking. She even liked the light scar near his right ear.

  But most of all, she loved his protective nature. The way she knew she was safe when she was with him. And she wasn’t sure why, but she respected his steadfast faith, even though she didn’t have it.

  All her life, she’d sought security. Strangely, she’d never felt it until now. It didn’t make sense; she wasn’t even home, in familiar surroundings. And she barely knew Eli. How can I be so comfortable when I’m in an unfamiliar place?

  She recalled the warmth of Eli’s touch on her shoulder when the slamming barn door had frightened her. She closed her eyes a moment in bliss. The she opened them. And frowned.

  Stop. Don’t even go there. He wouldn’t even think of dating you. You’re as different as day and night. He drives a buggy; you own a car. You’re a city girl. He’s a country boy. Besides, soon you’ll be going home. And there’s no way he’ll be moving to the city in the near future. Or ever.

  A certain conversation swept through her thoughts to make her fully realize their differences. Besides, he believes in God. You’ve never even been inside of a church.

  As she took in the scene in front of her, she relaxed. A few women wore long dresses and coverings on their hair. There were regular folks, too. Like her. People sporting jeans, T-shirts, and tennis shoes.

  She’d learned from Sandy that Arthur was a combination of Amish, Mennonites, and regular folks like her. And despite their different faiths, they combined to make one friendly, happy town.

  Arthur was considered a tourist attraction. Brochures in the Welcome Center attracted spectators to everything Amish, from custom-made cabinets to real Amish dining.

  St. Louis was a mélange of different races, backgrounds, and languages. But unlike this little town, not everyone got along. And some areas were safer than others.

  Most people she knew and worked with were like her, just average folk who followed the rules. But unfortunately, the city also had its share of crime. As a precautionary measure, she carried mace in her handbag. Her apartment wasn’t in the safest area. But she was there because of finances.

  But not for long. She smiled at the thought of moving across town. Then she’d be safer. And closer to work. That reality prompted her to relax, and she pulled her key from the ignition. She glanced in the mirror to make sure her eyeliner was even. Satisfied, she stepped out and closed her door.

  Inside the local store, two Amish girls smiled at her, so she politely introduced herself.

  They did the same. Afterwards, Hannah and Miriam looked at each other with shy expressions and giggled. The young girls both wore kapps on their heads. Their faces were void of makeup, even lipstick. And aprons covered their long dresses. Everything about their appearance seemed so … innocent. Coming from a troubled family, that was something she’d never felt.

  Jessica pulled her purse strap over her shoulder and began to enjoy the surroundings. The air smelled of spices. As she proceeded slowly down the first aisle, she checked out the herbs in baggies with their contents typed on a white label. Egg noodles had labels that said they were handmade by the Amish.

  A circular platter displayed bite-sized pieces of cheese, and she sampled one, nodding satisfaction. Several steps behind her, a mother scolded her child for touching an item.

  As Jessica proceeded down another aisle, a woman with a wide smile, also with a head covering, a long dress with an apron, and sturdy black shoes, met her gaze and stopped. Jessica couldn’t help but smile back. She didn’t mean to stare, but the eyes looked familiar.

  The lady stepped closer and their gazes locked as she spoke with a soft voice edged with curiosity and excitement. She asked, “Jessica Beachy?”

  As Jessica nodded, the woman continued with enthusiasm. “I didn’t mean to eavesdrop, but I heard you introduce yourself.”

  She extended her hand in a friendly gesture. “I’m Annie Miller. As a very close friend of your late uncle’s, I want to extend my warmest welcome.” She swallowed and continued in a more serious tone, “And also my sympathies for your loss. I’m so sorry.”

  Jessica slo
wly released the warm fingers. “Thank you, Annie.” Before continuing, Jessica paused. “I thought I recognized those eyes. You’re Eli’s and Wayne’s mother?”

  Annie responded with a nod and a huge smile. “Jah. I have another son, John, too. He’s a welder. People tell me the boys resemble me. Fortunately, they’re much taller!”

  Annie clasped Jessica’s hands in hers and pressed firmly. “I’m glad to meet you, Jessica. I can’t even begin to tell you how much we loved Old Sam … We were so close, and he did so much for us.”

  Annie closed her eyes a moment as if gathering her strength. When she opened them, her eyes sparkled with moisture. Because of the woman’s obvious love for Jessica’s great-uncle, Jessica immediately bonded with her.

  “He was dear to my heart. And I’m sure you’ve got a lot to do right now. But know this. I’m here for you. Whatever you need.”

  Jessica considered the generous offer. Right now, what she really needed was to find out what Old Sam had made Esther for their sixtieth wedding anniversary. And where he’d hidden it. As she started to speak, she caught herself and stopped the words that were about to leave her mouth. Although Annie Miller was obviously very easy to talk to, they’d just met. But maybe after some time, she could broach the subject of the gift and where Old Sam and Esther had agreed to spend the rest of their lives together. It wasn’t the right time to ask.

  “I’m just a call away, and I do mean that sincerely. We’ve got a phone in our barn, and we check messages often.”

  Jessica smiled and said sincerely, “I’m so appreciative, Annie.”

  Annie winked. “We’re already friends.”

  Jessica nodded in agreement. After a slight pause, she went on. “We’re practically neighbors. Actually, we’re the first house south of yours.”

  Annie’s grin widened. “Eli told me. I’m so glad you’re close by. I’ll bring you an official welcome batch of my sponge cakes. And don’t forget”—she paused to put a hand on her hip—“you’re welcome anytime. Old Sam would want me to make you feel at home, and that’s exactly what I intend to do. In fact, Jessica, if you don’t have plans for Saturday dinner, we’d love to have you. Will you come?”